Pain
by alicem877
Summary: Pain. It's pretty much all I've ever known. And I feel it will be all I will ever know.


Tired. That's what I am right now. I glance out of the window and sigh. At least it's a month now until the next full moon. I hate the full moon. People say it's a thing of beauty, but I'd hardly know. I haven't seen one properly since I was three.

I'm a werewolf. The words are like poison in my mouth. I've tried to hide it for eight years. And I have. My parents protect me. I've never really met someone my age. I'm scared I might hurt someone. Everyone is scared I might hurt them. I don't blame them. I look at my arms. They are covered in deep scars, remnants of lonely nights spent in pain. Much of my body is covered in the pale lines from which blood once poured.

I am in pain right now. It is six days until my eleventh birthday. It was a full moon last night. December is the hardest month. The nights are cold and long, leaving me in a vulnerable state for longer. People don't think it but when transformed is when a werewolf is at its most vulnerable. I know it sounds weird, but I sometimes enjoy the freedom of not knowing who you are. But that's only sometimes. Usually its however many hours of fitful sleep and pain.

There is a knock on the door. I stick my head into the cold air to see who it is. It is a man with long silver hair, dressed in purple wizard's robes embroidered with stars. He looks up and I slam my window closed. I hear the door open, and then close again straight afterwards. I peer out of the window again and saw the man standing at the front door, insistent that my father let him in. I recognise his face. I just can't pin it to a name. I look at the wall of chocolate frog cards. I was bored one day, and couldn't bear another day of looking on at the other children who lived on the street playing happily, so I stuck my complete collection onto the wall. I've had a lonely childhood. Before the fateful night I was able to play. But it all changed. My parents have given me a full life, but it has been lonely. I'm not allowed to go out and play with the other children.

The man is still on our doorstep. He has erected a chair and is sitting, quite contented. I glance at the wall of cards again and spot his face. Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts. I wonder why he is at our door. Werewolves don't go to Hogwarts. If I wasn't a werewolf, I would be going to Hogwarts next year. He's still sitting on our doorstep when I go to breakfast. "Why is Albus Dumbledore on our doorstep? And why did you close the door on him?" I ask, as I pour Cheeri Owls into a bowl. My father is silent for a minute, before asking my sister and I to go back upstairs. As I climb to my bedroom, I hear the door open and a voice I don't recognise greeting my father. It must be the voice of Dumbledore. I bury my nose in a book, written in ancient runes. The runes are like a second language to me, one that I have read since I was very small. I had little else to do.

I hear the quiet talking for what seems like many hours, until the small bell in my bedroom used to get my attention is rung. I cautiously head down the staircase and see my parents and the aged professor sitting in front of the fire. I stand at the door until my mother invites me in. Dumbledore looks at me, his piercing blue eyes full of curiosity. "It's worked before, you know." He muses, as I squeeze onto the sofa in between my parents. My father brings his arm around me, pulling me into a tight hug.

Dumbledore continues to stare at me, before asking me; "Would you like to go to Hogwarts, Alice?" I'm not sure what to think. I pinch myself, drawing blood. It's not a dream. "Of course I would. But wouldn't it be dangerous? I mean, with my condition?" Dumbledore shakes his head, chuckling. "Of course not! Of course, there is a little risk, but with the necessary provisions I don't see why not! You will begin next September." I can't believe it. I had read about Hogwarts, sure. But to actually go was beyond my wildest dreams. Only nine months to go!


End file.
